The Summer Girls (20 page)

“When?” asked Carson, stricken.

“Sometime in the fall, I imagine.”

When no one spoke, Mamaw continued. “Which brings me to the next topic. Since the house will be sold, I must deaccess some of the more important family pieces. Here’s what I propose.” She looked around to discover that all the girls’ eyes were shining with interest.

“I would like each of you to list the item that you most want to have. The one item you are desperate for, more than any of the others. I want to be sure you each take something from the house that you love.”

“There are so many pretty pieces,” Dora said eagerly. “I wouldn’t know where to begin.”

“You’ve already begun!” Carson teased. “I’ve caught you snooping around the house, checking out the goods already.”

Dora’s cheeks colored. “I was not! I haven’t, Mamaw!” she sputtered.

“Oh, come now, Dora,” Harper teased. “Even I’ve seen you lift the porcelains to check the provenance.”

“There’s nothing wrong with education,” Dora blustered. “What about you?”

“Please . . .” Harper said with an air of condescension.

“Don’t go all English royal on me. You’re always on that computer. Are you Googling Early American furniture, hmmm?”

Harper barked out a laugh. “Hardly. But come to think of it . . .” she said, and her eyes sparkled with mirth. She turned to Carson and wagged her finger. “I saw you checking out the prices of vintage Cadillacs!”

Carson’s mouth dropped open. “That’s because I’m hoping to buy the car from Mamaw. It’s a business transaction. I have to know its current value.”

“Uh-huh.” Harper rolled her eyes. “I’m sure.”

“And your eyes didn’t practically fall out of their sockets when you saw Mamaw’s diamond earrings?” Dora asked.

Harper had the grace to laugh. “Score. They
are
amazing. I do so love nature’s vintage carbon products.” She turned shrewd eyes toward Mamaw. “That ring you wore tonight caught my fancy. Is that open for the grab?”

“No!” Dora sat straight and almost shouted the word. “That’s a family ring! It’s always given to the Muir sons to give to their wives. By that virtue, the ring will go to Nate. He is the only male heir.”

“So far,” Carson countered. “What makes you think we’re not going to have sons?”

“Well,” Dora said primly, “you
are
thirty-four and you don’t even have a boyfriend.”

“My eggs are fine, thank you very much,” Carson said dangerously.

Harper said smugly, “Well, cool your jets, sisters. I’m only twenty-eight and I’ve got plenty of boyfriends. I’m putting that ring as my number one.”

“You can’t!” Dora fumed. “It was given to my mother, and she had the decency to return it to Mamaw after the divorce. It’s only right that the ring go to my son.”

“Dora,” Mamaw said in a tone that immediately silenced her. “Your mother received a hefty settlement after the divorce on the condition that she return the ring. So I’ll hear no more about her noble intentions. As for the other wives . . .” She shifted in her seat like she was sitting on a burr. “I mean no disrespect to the dead”—she looked at Carson—“but neither of the other two women deserved the ring and I told Parker that. The ring is mine. And I happen to like it. Whichever decision I make, it will be mine and mine alone. Is that understood?”

There were hesitant nods all around.

Mamaw continued in a firm tone, “My dears, you needn’t worry about me. I’ve always managed to take care of myself. Each of you will likewise have to make your own way in this world. I can, however, offer you this advice: Friends come and go. But through the thick and thin, the good and bad, you can only ever count on your family.” Mamaw took a breath, feeling more in control again. “That’s the heart of it.
Family
.” She searched their faces, pleased to see she had their full attention. “Which leads me to my next point.”

“There’s more?” Harper muttered under her breath.

“Yes, Harper dear,” Mamaw said pointedly, “there’s one bit more. I’ve given this a great deal of thought, so I hope you don’t think what I’m about to say is the rambling of an
eccentric old woman. It worries me—deeply—that we, the last of the Muirs, are not as close as we once were, at least not as close as we were during our summers here at Sea Breeze. We’ve become strangers. I’ve thought about what I could do to rekindle that spark of family in us before Sea Breeze is sold and we all go off to the four points of the earth.”

“It was never Sea Breeze that brought me to Sullivan’s Island,” Harper said. “Frankly, I’m not a big fan of Sea Breeze. It’s perfectly nice, don’t get me wrong, but it’s always been you, Mamaw, that I came to see. And my sisters.” She smiled shyly.

Mamaw sat back in her chair, momentarily thrown by this comment. She glanced at Dora and Carson and saw that their expressions reflected agreement.

“I’m so very glad to hear that,” she said slowly. “But I fear, more deeply than ever, that once I’m gone, the connection of Muir family blood will truly dissipate.”

“I don’t want to think of you dying,” Carson said.

“I can’t live forever,” Mamaw said with a gentle laugh. “No one can. But once I’m gone, what will become of my family? That is the worry that keeps me up at night. So!” she said, slapping her thighs with her palms. “I’ve a plan. I’m asking each of you to spend the entire summer at Sea Breeze. Our last summer. What do you say?”

Carson leaned back in her chair and shrugged. “You know what I say.”

Dora inched forward on her seat. “I always come for two weeks in July. I suppose I can try and extend it another week or two, if you wish.”

“I’m sorry, Mamaw. I can’t possibly stay here for a whole month, much less a summer,” Harper said incredulously. “I don’t even get a month’s vacation! I’m sorry, Mamaw. I appreciate the invitation, I truly do. But this weekend is all I can swing. Believe me, it was tough enough. But we have this weekend, don’t we?” she added, trying to spin a positive note.

Mamaw slowly leaned back in her chair and clasped her hands together. “I don’t think I made myself clear,” she said. “I’d hoped you’d all be delighted to accept my invitation to spend the summer. But, as it appears that is not happening, I must tell you that I’m not merely inviting you. The invitation that you stay at Sea Breeze for the summer is, well”—she tapped her fingertips against each other—“more a stipulation.” She stilled her hands.

“Of what?” Dora asked.

Mamaw took a breath. “Stay for the summer, or you are out of the will.”

“What!” Harper exploded, leaping to her feet.

“That’s blackmail!” said Dora, puffed up and sitting at the edge of her chair. “You’re saying that each of us needs to spend the entire summer here or you’re essentially writing us off?”

Mamaw lifted her gaze and a coy smile played at her lips, one that her pirate ancestor would have been proud of. “I prefer to think of it as adding sugar to the pot,” she replied. “Truly. Just think! A vacation together. A time to reconnect. Think of it as a gift.”

Mamaw waited in the tense silence as the girls digested this ultimatum.

Dora sat back in her chair, apparently resigned. “All right, Mamaw. If it means that much to you I’ll manage it somehow. And I
will
have all those workmen in the house,” she added with dejection. “Besides, there’s no one waiting for me at home anymore. I’ll have to go back and forth from Summerville a few times, but I suppose if I juggle things . . .” Her voice trailed off in thought.

“Thank you, dear. I’d hoped you could,” said Mamaw.

“I’d have to keep Nate,” Dora added.

“Of course.”

“I’m in,” Carson said, grinning, tucking her legs up.

Mamaw looked at Harper, who was pacing the patio. Harper turned and returned to the group, standing opposite Mamaw. Her face was slightly flushed. “This is ridiculous,” Harper said in a matter-of-fact tone.

Dora, who was sitting next to her, swung her head to look at Harper.

“It’s not blackmail, Dora. It’s bribery,” Harper continued. “I see the pirate blood still runs strong in the Muir family.”

“Death to the ladies!” Carson shouted, raising her fist.

She was trying to lighten the mood but her effort fell cold. Harper was having none of it. She stood straighter, her jaw clenching. She wasn’t aware how very much she looked like her mother at that moment.

“You know, Mamaw,” she said in disbelief, “it’s laughable that you’d expect that we could drop everything and come running back here for vacation, like we were little girls again. We’re not! We’re grown women. With jobs. Or at least I have a job. Even if we could stay a month. But, two months, three!”

“This is not merely a vacation,” Mamaw implored. “This is our final opportunity to be together.”

“What do you think is going to happen?” Harper asked. “That suddenly we’re all going to be close again?
Sisters?
It’s too late for that. You should’ve thought of this long ago.”

“Actually, she did,” Carson interjected. She offered her sisters a sober glance. “She invited us every summer.”

“Well, I’m sorry,” Harper replied. “I couldn’t make it. And I can’t make it this summer.” She reached up and fumbled at the clasp of her pearls.

Carson leaned forward and stretched her arm out to touch Harper’s leg. “Harpo,” she said, using the old nickname. “What are you doing?”

Harper didn’t reply. When the pearl necklace slid into her palms she walked over to Mamaw and stuck out her hand. “Please take it. I don’t want it.”

Mamaw put out her hand to catch the pearls as they slid out from Harper’s palm.

“Good night.” Harper turned on her heel and marched off.

“Harper!” Carson called after her.

“Let her go,” said Dora darkly.

Mamaw forced herself to keep her silence, closing her fingers around the pearls. She brought her fist close to her beating heart.

“I’d better go check on her,” said Carson. She sprang to her feet and trotted across the porch and into the house.

“Well!” Dora said in a huff. “I never heard anything like that in all my life. Talking that way to you. Throwing back the pearls. She might have royal lineage, but no lady would
ever talk to her grandmother like that. Let her go back to New York.”

Mamaw wasn’t listening. She stared into the dark night, lost in her own thoughts. The night hadn’t gone at all the way she’d hoped. The house was in an uproar and her girls were more alienated from one another than ever.

“Mamaw?” Dora said, nudging her.

Mamaw shook herself to the present. Dora had moved beside her and was looking at her with worry.

“Go see if Lucille is awake, would you, sugar? That’s a good girl. If she’s asleep, let her be. And help me up. I’m so tired. I’m going to my room.” Mamaw fanned the air. “My heart’s beating like a rabbit’s. I’m worn out.”

“Mummy? It’s me.” Harper sat on her bed in the room she shared with Dora. The pillow was flat, the mattress hard, and the old pink and blue patchwork quilt frayed. It was a far cry from the chic decorator rooms in her mother’s house in the Hamptons. Suddenly, she felt so alone. She longed to be on the eastern shore, far from the South, far from everyone here who could pierce the shell she’d constructed around herself. Harper looked at the screen of her laptop, comforting with its steady connection to a vast, impersonal world.

“I saw that you’d called.”

“Yes,” Georgiana confirmed from New York. “I called twice, actually. The most terrible thing has happened.”

Harper’s body tensed. “What?”

“Mummy fell and broke her hip.”

Harper’s eyes flashed open and she rolled to her side. “Oh, no. I’m so sorry. When?”

“Yesterday. She’s at hospital now and terribly put out.”

“Poor Granny. How did it happen?”

“She was preparing to leave for the Hamptons and fell down the stairs. I suppose we’re fortunate it wasn’t worse.”

“I guess that means she won’t make it to the Hamptons.”

“Of course she won’t make it.”

Harper flushed, squeezing her eyes shut. “Of course not. Silly of me. I just meant . . .” She didn’t know what she’d meant. It was just one of those inane comments people sometimes made at tense moments. Her mother didn’t tolerate fools or the foolish.

“She’ll need someone to stay with her when she returns home from hospital,” Georgiana went on. “So, darling, I’d like you to go to England as soon as you can.”

“England?” Harper exclaimed, shocked at the suggestion.

“Yes,” her mother said impatiently. “Mummy will need someone to stay with her. Family.”

“Shouldn’t you go? She’d much prefer you to me.”

“I would, of course. But I have to go to the Hamptons regardless. I’ve accepted so many engagements that I simply can’t cancel.”

“But my work . . .”

Her mother’s tone grew increasingly frustrated. Harper could picture her at her desk, despite the late hour, her hair pulled back and her bifocal glasses sliding down her nose. She was in a hurry and wanted this settled and off her desk promptly, without argument.

“You work for me. Your job is to do what I tell you to do. And I wish for you to go to England.”

Harper let her hand drop from her ear.
Your job is to do what I tell you to do
. Despite all her imaginings, she had to face the reality that this was, indeed, her job description.